


Haunting

by scapolice



Series: Hauntings [1]
Category: The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-28
Updated: 2015-09-28
Packaged: 2018-04-23 20:28:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4891021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scapolice/pseuds/scapolice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Back when the village was new, back before Hyrule was split, they used to say that forest was haunted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Haunting

Word of him used to carry on children's breaths, in the fears of adults and the superstitions of those even older. Don't stray off the path, they said. Don't linger too long, or you'll see him.

There was no ill intent in his gaze, but the living feared and revered the dead. That was the way it was. Their fears were justified; he too had suffered at rotting hands- as a young boy, he'd been grasped by clawed, decaying fingers, suffocated by shambling corpses. ...Not in this world, though.

Once, there was a hero. Not in this world, though. He saved Hyrule, fought deadly monsters, grew beyond his youth, plucked from the forests where he'd stumbled as young child. Not in this world, though. And he'd saved it. He'd laboured and he'd overcome trials, they sang of him, knew what he'd been through, treated him for what he was.

But in this world, there wasn't a hero. There was next to no one; just a lonely little boy with no connections, no future, and no clue of the suffering in store for him. His friends didn't know of him. He couldn't return to where he'd been, no matter how hard he'd cried- in this world, he lived as a stranger, and died as one, too.

There was no respite for his soul. His carcass walked, restless and forlorn, skin and muscle long frayed away under rusting ceremonial armour. He waited. Some would see him. Some wouldn't. Some ran. Some didn't.

Sometimes, children got lost, or worse- but nothing ill could ever happen to them under his watch. Any offenders were quickly dispatched, and the child was not confronted by a man, but a wolf. Most didn't run. Those from Castle Town saw dogs all the time- sometimes they'd offer him scraps as he shepherded them back onto the road. He couldn't eat, but he was grateful for the gesture.

The adults were of less concern. Sometimes he'd help. But protecting youth, and innocence, so that those after him didn't suffer a fate as he did- that was a cause so much closer to home.

And that was why he didn't confront one particular child- he could smell the mark of the hero on him- faint, but there was lingering courage in his line. His youth was precious. He watched him grow, and with the horse came a pang of longing. 

The boy grew strong. He waited. Waited until perhaps it was a little too late- events were unfurling before him now with alarming speed. If he couldn't train him now, he never could.

Stepping out from the shadows, he charged towards that kindred spirit.


End file.
